


Napping

by quicksparrows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8335912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Overwatch is back together. Soldier is tired already.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just poking around Jack's character a lil.

 

 

**1.**

 

"I was thinking," Soldier says in a low rumble.

He looks at Angela, who is looking straight ahead of her with an uneasy expression. He's sure it matches his own. In a way, they're hostages of this recall. Neither of them wanted this.

"We're too old for this," Soldier adds.

She looks to him. She's a picture-perfect image of thirty years, and yet her eyes say she is as old and grey as he is. He's hardly the picture of someone of his advanced age, either, but such is life with biotic enhancements.

"Peace is always in its infancy, unfortunately," Angela says. And then she says: "But what makes you say that?"

Soldier looks back at the rest of their team, strapped into their seats. They're all asleep, sagging against the harness seatbelts. Fareeha is dozing, but despite being a woman grown, Soldier just sees the eight year old that once rode on her shoulders. Hana's head is lolled to the side, cheek smushed against the side of the head guard. She still has baby fat in her face. 

"Some of them are children," he says.

Angela smiles.

"We were that young, once."

"Not _nineteen_ ," Soldier replies.

"Perhaps, but if you keep saying things like that, you're going to live up to your new nickname," she says.

He pauses.

"My nickname?" he says.

Angela laughs under her breath, as to not wake the _children_.

" _Dad_ ," she says.

 

 

 

**2.**

 

"Why don't you sleep, Jack?" Ana says, her voice a low, soothing lilt. When he glances at her sidelong –– who can sleep, this wired up? –– she smiles at him. "Angela and I can look after the controls."

"I don't think I _could_ sleep, even if I tried," he says. The fact that he's here, in Overwatch, in some _two-point-O_ verwatch, is fraying his nerves. 

"We won't be touching down for another five hours," she says. "That's enough time for some rest."

Soldier breathes a long, deep sigh. There won't be any rest, not when Overwatch ended miserably. He doesn't want to see it happen again. That thought grips him already, and they're only forty-eight hours into this new-found initiative. Give it a few more days, and it just might kill him.

"Ana," he says. 

"Don't make me put you there," she says.

There's a touch of warning there, and she pinches the back of his neck between a strong thumb and index finger. He feels his tension wane just the slightest bit, one pound of a hundred off his shoulders.

"I'll sleep," he relents. "But I'll sleep right here in my seat."

He hears Angela make an amused noise, somewhere to his left, and Ana's soothing fingers grow firmer, working into the tense muscle.

"To a proper bed in the berth," she says, firmly.  "We have an unpredictable few days ahead of us. If you're sleepy when we need you most, the ICC will have us all in The Hague in no time."

Fair enough. He pushes himself to his feet. He will sleep if it means protecting the new members of this fragile operation.

 After all, the people of the first Overwatch were the best people who had ever been in his life.

 

 

**3.**

 

"It's time to get up!" Hana says, and then, in a low little sing-song voice: "Commander Jamkkuleogi!" 

Jam–what?

Soldier opens his eyes. It's dark. Someone's dimmed the lights in the berth. He sits up sharp and Hana leans back on her heels. She's bold, especially to get up in his face –– bolder _still_ to tease him in a language he can't retaliate in.

Too bad for her, the tricks rookies get up to never change.

"Out of my face, kid," he grumbles, groping for his mask. She hands it to him with two hands. The light on the doorway catches on her round face, catching on the edges of her cheeky smile.

"Captain Amari asked me to wake you up!" she says. These are old titles. Soldier isn't sure he wants to hear them anymore.

"Are we landing?" he asks.

"Soon," she chirps.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" he demands. "Go get ready to land!"

She laughs but she gets up and off she goes. What a kid. For a moment, Soldier thinks of the implications of being called Dad. _Him?_  

_Hah._

Maybe in another lifetime, where he and Angela drive a minivan of misfit foster kids.

 


End file.
